Out Of The Question
by TheOtherShin
Summary: AoKaga Mpreg. Aomine and Kagami are roommates, and only that, until the sizzling tension between them kicks things up to another level. But their newfound intimacy results in an unexpected consequence, leading them to discover more about the Generation of Miracles, and themselves, than they ever wanted to know.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

They were in unspoken agreement that they would both keep their mouths shut. It was an embarrassing enough subject just between the two of them, without the hassle and chore of spreading it around, and besides, it wasn't as if they were dating or anything. They just...sometimes went out to dinner together, because it was cheaper that way, or played a friendly (or not-so-friendly) game of basketball. And sometimes, just sometimes, Kagami would wind up on his back or his hands and knees on their bed with Aomine buried balls-deep inside him. No big deal.

How and why exactly they'd started screwing was a little unclear. When Kagami had left high school behind, he'd firmly thought that he wouldn't be seeing Aomine again any time soon, but lo and behold, he'd only had to walk a few steps into his new dorm room, a box of his belongings in hand, to run straight into an infuriatingly familiar, smirking tan face, attached to a long, limber body already sprawled out on the only bed in the room.

At first, he'd thrown a fit over having his idiot high school rival as a roommate; of all the infernal, evil curses to be saddled with, he thought he must have done something to seriously piss off the fates to earn this brutal of a punishment. Scowling, he had stubbornly set up his bedding on the floor, refusing to share a bed with the asshole, but one miserable night spent tossing and turning and one grueling day of college with heavy eyelids and an aching back was enough to easily cure him of that resolution, and afterwards he'd ruefully claimed the side by the window, hoping Aomine wouldn't push him out of it in his sleep. Of course the bastard hogged the blankets, talked in his sleep, snored like a jackhammer, and _drooled_, but eventually Kagami was deadened to all of that, and didn't even grumble to himself resentfully as he drifted to sleep anymore.

He still thought the whole arrangement was complete and total bullshit, and he should ask to switch roommates with someone else in the dorm, but he'd missed his chance, and he supposed it could have been worse. At least they already knew each other so they didn't have to endure tedious and awkward introductions, and at least they shared a common interest that would hopefully keep the chances of them murdering each other rather low. Of course, they still butted heads, over things as stupid as Aomine leaving his underwear hanging on the back of the only chair they owned ("the laundry basket is _two steps away_, you lazy piece of shit!"), or Kagami using Aomine's toothbrush and forgetting to rinse it off ("it was too dark to tell them apart!"). For the most part, though, they got along fine, when they weren't snapping at each others' heels and poking each other in the face, and on the basketball court, as always, they were splendidly in synch.

Somewhere along the line, hormones and rivalry had, perhaps inevitably, blurred into tension and attraction, and in a dizzying turn of events Kagami found himself being the giver and recipient of many a handjob, and much more, from the very person he'd sworn on his basketball shoes to oppose and despise for the rest of his natural-born life. It was almost scary how easily it had happened, though; how neither of them had questioned it until they were both sweating and panting and covered in each others' seed.

Arguments had become a daily - sometimes hourly - routine between the two of them. This time, it was over Aomine bouncing a basketball against the wall annoyingly while Kagami was trying and failing to study for an upcoming and much-dreaded test.

"Would you fucking stop that?" he snapped without turning around, focusing on the pencil he had pressed so hard to the page it was leaving indentations; he had read the last line at least seven times, the words bypassing his brain without comprehension, registering as straight gibberish.

For a moment, the hollow, repetitive thudding of the ball fell silent….and then started right back up again, undaunted. Kagami whirled around in his seat, a vein pulsing in his forehead, "Oi, Aho! I said cut that out!"

"But I'm booored," Aomine complained, shoving the ball against the plaster again, where Kagami could see a shallow dent was starting to form.

Standing up so fast he knocked over the chair, he stormed over to the idiot and snatched the culprit for the damage (and his burgeoning headache) out of his hands, "Look what you're doing, dumbass! We can't afford to have that fixed!"

"Hey, give that back." Aomine protested, sitting up and holding out his hands in a demanding gesture for the ball clenched in Kagami's own.

"Why, so you can keep making a racket and get both of us thrown out? Hell no." As usual, he remained the only voice of reason aboard this sinking ship.

Aomine's immature pout disappeared and his eyes glittered sinfully, "I'll show you a racket."

His intent sailed right over Kagami's head, but he didn't doubt for a moment that he wouldn't like whatever the moron had in mind, regardless; Aomine's knowledge of how to piss him off was extensive, and only growing longer and more detailed by the day.

"What are you on about this time?" he scowled, propping the offending basketball against his hip.

"Nothing," Aomine replied instantly, a slow smirk stretching his mouth.

Kagami heaved a long-suffering sigh and tossed the basketball into the laundry basket across the room, easily making the shot, "This is why you're a moron."

"Not as moronic as others I could name," came the immediate, careless retort.

"Asshole."

"Guilty," Aomine shrugged, looking not in the least so.

"Why do I put up with you, you're such a pain in the ass," Kagami muttered, turning and setting the chair back on its legs, preparing to get back to work.

"Because I'm an irresistibly charming basketball and sex god?" Aomine suggested smoothly.

Kagami sputtered indignantly and whipped back around, staring at his grinning, lounging roommate as if he'd sprouted a second head. His arrogance and occasional narcissism blew him away sometimes, and he wondered for the hundredth time how on Earth the egotistical idiot kept both feet on the ground with his head so full of hot air.

"...It's official, I've lost my fucking mind," he decided after a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose in defeat. Giving up on trying to cram for the test, he sat down heavily beside Aomine, not moving his hand from his face.

"Aw, don't take it too hard, Bakagami," Aomine teased, voice sober and deadpan, poking his cheek, "You can't lose what you don't have."

"Bastard!" Kagami snarled, tackling him and intending to punch him right in his stupid face for yet _another_ tasteless insult at his expense, but he didn't get that far.

Aomine leaned up to meet him with a leer and grabbed a fistful of his hair, bringing their lips crashing together. It was sudden, it was rough, and it left no room for questions or protests. And after a split-second's paralyzing shock, the burn of Kagami's anger melted away in the face of something much hotter, much more demanding, something that had him grinding his mouth against Aomine's, pressing for control of the unexpected, almost violent kiss. He refused to give in and submit to him, and his only other choice was to fight back.

So fight he did; wrestling with unyielding, but surprisingly smooth lips, tangling his fingers in the sheets on either side of Aomine's head, pinning him down with one knee pressed into the firm abdomen beneath him. Boldly, he pried Aomine's lips open with his own, plunging between them with his tongue, managing hot bursts of breath through his nose as he changed the angle of their melding mouths. Aomine's fingers tightened in the hair at the nape of his neck, his other hand clamping down on his shoulder, preventing him from moving away, and he was surprised to find, upon fleetingly searching himself, that he didn't feel an urge to escape. No, he was feeling much rawer, baser urges at the moment. He was definitely going to kick Aomine's ass when he came to his senses, but right now….well, right now he was actually considering doing something else to it.

Aomine didn't give him that chance, however, surging up with his entire body and flipping their positions with tremendous strength, catching Kagami off guard as he slammed him down on the mattress, lips grappling with his own around a muffled growl, or what might have been a moan in disguise. He wedged one long, powerful thigh between Kagami's knees, effectively separating them, one hand skimming down his chest before sliding under his shirt, heated fingers brushing against the sensitive skin bringing out a shiver from Kagami. He didn't just lie there either, digging his fingers into Aomine's shoulder blades, kicking him in the hip sharply when that wandering hand traveled lower, squeezing the aching flesh straining the front of his pants. Undeterred, Aomine fiercely rubbed his semi-hard erection, fucking his mouth with his tongue, imitating something much more primitive.

If Kagami had been capable of coherent thought at some point during this transgression, he definitely wasn't anymore; he couldn't think or ask, he could only feel. He couldn't stop the sounds of carnal pleasure that were jerked from him with every stroke of Aomine's large, warm hand on his cock, nor the trembling that wracked his body beneath the large, scorching one of his rival.

He felt Aomine's own rock-hard erection insistently prodding his stomach, and a detached prickle of unease swept over him at the formidable size of the thing. Basic survival instinct, wondering how he was going to handle that rigid, throbbing monster. This wouldn't be his first time sleeping with another person, or even sleeping with another _man_ - and he definitely knew that Aomine intended to sleep with him by now - but it would be his first time on the receiving end, which seemed non-negotiable at this point...and he felt a brief flash of sympathy for his past partners, taking it like freaking champs.

Finally, Aomine broke the heated kiss, and Kagami registered a surge of purely physical satisfaction to see he was gulping harsh, unsteady breaths, tan cheeks flushed with color, stormy blue eyes glazed with pleasure. Absently, he reached up and snagged a hand in his dark hair, sifting through it lightly before giving it a sharp tug.

"_God_," Aomine gasped, head tilting back, rutting his hips against Kagami's belly in what Kagami was pretty sure was an involuntary response. One of his hands splayed on Kagami's chest, bracing his weight, and the other that had been stimulating his arousal a moment ago hovering in a momentary spell of hesitation, "Kagami, shit, let me...let me fuck you. ...Please," he added as an afterthought, his gaze locked compellingly on Kagami's own.

"Do it." Kagami commanded, voice a little strained and rusted, amid breathless pants, his chest heaving against Aomine's searing fingers.

The hand wavering at Aomine's side came up to his own mouth, and two of his fingers slipped between his lips. He slicked them liberally, while Kagami watched with burning, impatient eyes, and his free hand traveled to lower Kagami's sweats on his hips, the fabric catching on the jutting erection tenting it for a moment before allowing it to spring free. Dropping his hand low, Aomine brushed his wet fingertips teasingly along the cleft of Kagami's ass, before pressing in and lightly circling his quivering entrance, his slightly parted lips splitting around a smug leer.

"Shut up," Kagami panted irritably, if a little tremulously, seizing the back of his neck and bringing him down to crush their mouths together. Aomine complied, but Kagami could still feel him grinning against his lips, as he slowly slid one finger into him. Breath hitching, Kagami arched halfway off the mattress at the sting of discomfort, and Aomine gave him a moment to adjust, twisting and probing with the finger carefully before another joined it, the unbroken kiss losing some of its intensity as he concentrated. The fingers inside Kagami scissored and curled, and then he felt them scrape against something that sent a burst of stars flaring up behind his eyes, yanking a ragged moan from his throat.

Apparently satisfied, Aomine withdrew them, and Kagami heard a rustle of fabric and the muted hiss of a zipper before he felt something much thicker and harder nudging against him. He let his rival's mouth go, his own lips swollen from the pressure, his face and neck feeling unnaturally hot, and as Aomine moved his hips forward, pushing inside him, he hissed a breath between his teeth, and they just stayed that way for a moment, huffing the sizzling air between them. Then Kagami jerked, lifting his hips and his weeping, neglected cock up in a silent demand for friction. Aomine gave it to him, grinding down, thrusting deep into him and bringing out a low, approving growl. He started choppy, slow, but it wasn't long before he picked up speed, ramming into Kagami with a wild abandon, grunting intermittent sounds of pleasure, mingling with Kagami's moans and gasps and occasionally whimpers.

They rocked, rutted, ground against each other, harder and faster, the mattress creaking beneath them as hands clawed for purchase and sweating skin slapped together. Kagami's fingers clenched in Aomine's shirt, and the breath was punched out of him with the next crest, as impending release tightened and coiled in his stomach. Aomine was close as well, his already unsteady rhythm falling away to feral, almost violent thrusts; neither of them could last long. One of Aomine's hands fumbled between them and wrapped around Kagami's erection, pumping it with each driving movement of his hips, and abruptly Kagami tensed, shuddering and groaning as he came, spilling over Aomine's hand and his own shirt. Aomine slammed his hips forward twice more, and then went rigid as well, gritting out an indistinct curse as his cock twitched and pulsed, releasing jets of slick warmth into Kagami.

Rolling off of him after a moment, Aomine collapsed on his back, gasping for breath, and Kagami shifted uncomfortably, making a face as sticky liquid dribbled down his inner thighs.

"Nasty," he muttered, his voice sounding hoarse even to his own ears, sitting up and glaring down at his flushed, grinning roommate, remembering his earlier resolution to beat him up for this.

"_This" being…?_ "...Did you plan this?" he asked skeptically, forked eyebrows drawing together slightly in a frown.

Aomine chuckled, without opening his eyes, and folded his arms under his head, "Maybe, a little."

Kagami scoffed, "What do you mean 'maybe'? How do you 'maybe' arrange to fuck somebody?" Realizing what he'd just said, he felt heat crawl up his face, and dropped his gaze, flustered even if he was still wearing the evidence of what they'd just done.

"Well, I already knew I wanted to get in your pants," Kagami's head shot up at that, and he wrinkled his nose at the thought of all the subtle insinuations and lusty gazes he might have missed over the last few weeks, "It was just a matter of how, and it was just when you leaned so close that I thought I'd give it a try."

"And what if I'd punched you in the face instead of kissing you back?"

Aomine seemed to consider this, eyes flitting open, and then hunched his shoulders in a shrug, "But you didn't, did you?" he sneered, "You couldn't fucking wait to get it on with me."

Kagami opened his mouth to deliver a stinging retort, but then just snapped it closed, hoping his face wasn't turning as red as it felt like it was. He'd already known Aomine was pansexual; perfectly happy to fuck anything that stood still long enough and had the right parts to do it, but he also had rather picky taste if his partner didn't happen to have melon-sized breasts. That he'd apparently been so eager to sleep with Kagami said a lot, and a tentative part of him wondered if he'd be up for doing it again sometime.

Not that they should start dating or anything; he didn't think they would manage to get along for five minutes without throttling each other. But that fevered romp had certainly loosened Kagami up; he felt relaxed and sated, and full...and he was willing to hazard a bet that - as soon as he got a good night's sleep - he would have a much better time focusing on studying for that test next week. ...So he supposed the bottom line was, he wouldn't mind doing it again.

Just as a stress-reliever.

No big deal.

TBC

_((So many story ideas, so little time… Hopefully this one will get more interesting as it progresses; I've got all kinds of juicy stuff planned, plus I never get tired of these two bickering little shits getting in each others' faces. I suppose it was kind of inevitable that I ended up starting an mpreg fic at the end of summer; I just hope this one doesn't turn into the 54-chapter, plot-hole-ridden monster the last one did._

_Review, please, review the crap out of me, it means more than you know._

_-Shinsun))_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Aomine thought that if it wasn't impossible, impractical, and probably unhealthy, he would have been perfectly happy to live in Kagami's ass year-round. It was just divine, though, he loved that ass; loved rolling it and squeezing in his hands and listening to Kagami gasp in his ear in response, loved sinking himself inside that luscious warmth and pressure where everything was snug and humid and wonderful. Not even a nice, large pair of jiggly boobs could quite measure up...although he'd admitted to himself it was a sacrifice choosing Kagami over the multitude of scrumptious tits he could have discovered with the entirety of the college world spread before him. Like he was surrendering an all-you-can-eat dessert buffet in favor of the sweetest, most succulent, melt-in-your-mouth truffle the place had to offer. That truffle being Kagami's fantastic ass, of course.

An ass he found himself visiting quite often, enthusiastically, over the last few weeks or so... So enthusiastically that he was beginning to wonder how Kagami wasn't developing a limp from being ruthlessly pounded like pizza dough almost every other night. He could still push Aomine within an inch of his life on the basketball court, though, and seemed to be upholding his classes well enough, so Aomine didn't see any reason why he should stop.

"...S-stop, _stop,_ Aomine -!" Kagami choked, bracing his hands against Aomine's sweating chest to try to push him off; his face that had been flushed a moment ago - until all the color drained from it - contorted with pain, "I feel sick, f-fucking stop!"

By a force of sheer will, Aomine stopped thrusting into that tight, welcoming warmth, panting for breath and looking at him in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"Which word don't you understand, dumbass?" Kagami snapped, voice harsh in contrast with his earlier breathless moaning and stifled, sexy sounds of pleasure, "Get off me!"

Holding up his hands in supplication, Aomine reluctantly obeyed, mourning the loss as he slid out of him; the air hitting his hard, throbbing cock feeling uncomfortably cold in comparison.

Immediately, Kagami leapt up, still sporting a rather insistent erection himself, and quickly stumbled to the tiny bathroom they shared in the dorm room, not even taking time to flick on the light before Aomine heard the toilet seat being lifted, followed by the wet, grotesque sounds of vomiting. Sitting back on his heels with a huff of disappointment - acknowledging that there would be no resuming their previous activity, with a sad glance at his poor, abandoned dick - he decided to count himself lucky that at least Kagami hadn't gone and hurled on _him._

Kagami returned a few minutes later, furiously brushing his teeth; looking grossed out, annoyed, and a little pale.

"I hope you aren't using my toothbrush again," Aomine remarked carelessly, from where he was lounging on the bed, now clothed below the waist.

Unable to retort with a mouth full of toothpaste, Kagami shot him the finger, and rummaged in the clean laundry basket for something to put on his currently naked body. Aomine wouldn't have complained if he paraded around like that a while longer, but he supposed if he wasn't going to be getting any, he probably should be careful what he wished for.

Throwing on a loose pair of boxers, Kagami shuffled back to the bathroom to spit out the suds in his mouth, and a moment later Aomine heard him gargle, before he joined his company again, sitting down beside him on the bed.

"Hey, if you're contagious, go sit over there," Aomine attempted to tease, "I don't want you breathing your germs on me."

"Shut up, asshole." Kagami, apparently, was not up for the usual banter, and his voice was tired and toneless.

Feeling like a huge jerk - which he supposed he could be from time to time - Aomine looked at the floor, before awkwardly attempting to make up for kicking Kagami when he was down, "Uh...I was only kidding, you know..."

"Just leave me alone for a bit," Kagami muttered, lying down gingerly, "I feel like shit."

"You look it." Mentally slapping himself, Aomine resolved sternly not to let his mouth get ahead of his brain again, while his rival - and, yes, he grudgingly admitted, friend - felt unwell.

Kagami didn't respond to the jab, however, and when Aomine glanced at him he saw his eyes were closed and he was taking slow, measured breaths, as if to keep from throwing up again.

Scooting a little closer to him, Aomine furrowed his brow thoughtfully. He'd never seen Kagami get sick before - though he supposed they hadn't known each other all that long - and he couldn't help but wonder what had caused him to fall ill now.

Not really thinking, he just blurted out what came to mind, "...I told you you shouldn't have tried that 'octopus ramen' Shikyo was going on about the other day."

Kagami groaned miserably and rolled away from him, cradling his stomach, "You suck so much…don't mention food of any kind until this thing passes, okay?"

"Right, okay," Aomine said quickly, shoving a hand through his hair. Wanting to help alleviate the redhead's discomfort - but not wanting to admit he wanted to help - he kind of felt at a loss for what to say. Judging from his previous attempts to make conversation, he supposed it would be best if he didn't say anything at all until Kagami felt better, but he already knew he would be horribly bored with no one to talk to and pester and fight with for however long that took. Frustrated, he laid back with a heavy sigh and looked at the ceiling, trying to count all the little cracks in it. This day was not starting out on the right foot at all. Maybe Kagami could make it up to him later, when he wasn't on the verge of puking his guts out, and play some ball with him while the weather held out.

.

.

A little time to rest and quell whatever bug had been plaguing his stomach seemed to brighten Kagami right up, and that very afternoon he eagerly joined Aomine on the nearest street court, fidgeting with anticipation and raring to go. Aomine was relieved, and looking forward to a game to get some of the excess endorphins and tension riding him from this morning out of his system. ...And face the one person who could pressure him and - occasionally - give him a run for his money when it came to the sport they both loved, of course. All their merciless bickering and taunting, all the stress of lectures and essays and tests...all of it just melted away when they went head to head on the court.

They were both smirking, showing lots of teeth, by the time they got started in earnest; pummeling the concrete with the ball that changed hands almost as quickly as it bounced from the ground to their fingertips and back. Neither gave ground, and for every shot Aomine made, Kagami returned it just as quickly, half-smirking, half-snarling with ferocity. Aomine felt elated, and wanted to laugh out loud, which he was only ever able to say when he was playing against his one true rival and equal. They always went all out, and both of them were always drenched in sweat and panting for breath by the time their games ended; they rarely even kept track of the score, unless there was a bet staked on it. Which, today, there was not, but Aomine was pretty sure he was winning nonetheless.

Stealing the ball yet again, he twisted agilely away from Kagami and barreled down the court, his rival hot on his heels, and Kagami caught up to him a moment before he leapt and drove the ball home, the hoop rattling with the impact as he crashed to Earth. He whipped around as Kagami seized the rebound, and tried to make a break for the other side of the court, but Aomine blocked him, shamelessly grinning with the thrill of the challenge. Feinting left before quickly spinning to the right, Kagami managed to get past him, drumming the ball against the pavement and glancing back at him only briefly before making a break for the other hoop.

"Feeling the heat that quick, Bakagami?" Aomine taunted, cutting off his escape again with a leer. Sweat was glistening on Kagami's brow, and his eyes were darting, his breathing a little unsteady, and rather than reply, he just scowled at him.

It was a little unlike his loud, boisterous rival not to give own vicious rebuttal, not to dish back everything that was thrown at him, but Aomine paid it little mind. Darting in, he easily snatched the ball, and Kagami jerked, as if startled out of daze, before lunging to steal it back. Battling over the much-handled object, they were toe to toe, eye to eye, breathing the hot air between them, but in the end, after a struggle that left him breathless, and all but beaming, Aomine came out on top. With a victorious snicker, he turned to sprint for the net, when he noticed Kagami's retaliating pursuit was sluggish and halfhearted, his eyes on the ground under his feet, instead of where they should have been. _Is he giving up? But he's _never_…_

Fast, unreasonable anger burned in Aomine's veins, and he halted and whipped around to face his opponent, dribbling menacingly, "What's the matter, Kagami? Can't keep up?" The testing taunt was more wicked than before; prompting, demanding a retort...but Kagami didn't give him one, just taking the barbed words without fighting back.

Breathing harsh and labored, Kagami stopped running as well, bracing his hands against his knees. He didn't look at Aomine, but even from where he was, Aomine could see his eyes were dull and disinterested.

"You're bored, then?" he growled furiously, advancing on him, "Why bother playing against me if you're going to fucking slack off and -"

Kagami interrupted him, lifting his head slightly and gasping for air, "I'm not...slacking off...bastard…"

Snorting, Aomine dribbled the ball right between his legs before taking it back, "Then prove it."

Mustering a determined glare, Kagami gave a sharp nod and lashed out for the ball, chasing Aomine when he started for the edge of the court, but he still wasn't trying, and Aomine's frustration and _fear_ - because Kagami was the only one who could bring out his joy and ambition in a match...he couldn't have that if the other lost interest - only grew with every passing second.

Aggressively pivoting on the spot, trying to bring out Kagami's enthusiasm with a harder challenge, he dribbled behind his back and danced out of reach as Kagami shot after him. It was a sloppy attempt at a screen, and Aomine was about to really start railing at him, when he realized Kagami's momentum hadn't stopped when he had. In an instant, all his anger drained and was replaced by shock as he watched his rival smash face-first into the concrete, with a thud that sounded much too heavy and loud to his ears.

"K-Kagami…?" Ignoring the ball as it bounced away, he reached out a hand toward his fallen opponent, but then uncertainly withdrew it. He wanted to kick himself for feeling indecisive.

Groaning, Kagami slowly, shakily raised his head from the ground, giving Aomine just enough time to see blood dripping down his forehead, before he let it drop again.

"Kagami!" Unrooting his feet from where they'd been frozen to the pavement, Aomine rushed to his side and, with difficulty (who knew Kagami was such a heavy bastard?) hoisted him up from the ground, gritting his teeth as he lifted him to his feet. Smothering panic before it could surface - it would not do to panic here with Kagami bleeding and apparently unable to stand - he tried to come up with a plan, but all his mind kept turning to was the gash across his rival's forehead. Better see to that quickly. Not knowing what else he could do, he guided Kagami to the bench where they'd left their bags and dug around for his phone. And Aomine Daiki was forced to do something he had never been good at. Call for help.

TBC

_((Had to kinda cut this one short, because I got carried away and started rambling. As such, chapter 3 is already in the works and half-finished, I just need to wrap it up and stuff._

_Reviews are great; feed the author!_

_-Shinsun))_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Kagami was already aware that he was an idiot. He'd had enough people tell him that to get the picture, but he'd really done it this time.

He couldn't remember much about _how_ he ended up in the hospital. He remembered the match he'd agreed to play against Aomine, even though he'd still felt kind of crappy, because he wanted to make up for pushing him away mid-thrust to barf up his insides earlier today, and because he'd seen the way the persuasive bastard's face had lit up as he suggested the idea. It was rare to make Aomine that happy, and only basketball - only basketball with _Kagami_ - could do it one hundred percent of the time without fail. But then he'd gone from happy right to furious, when Kagami had a hard time keeping up with his plays...everything had been kind of hazy, but he remembered Aomine yelling at him; he remembered a pounding, sort of whooshing noise in his own ears that hadn't sounded good, and he remembered collapsing and all but cracking his head open. And then he was perched on the side of a hospital bed, mind still spinning, while someone wiped the thick blood from his forehead with a clean cloth that kind of stung.

It took him much too long to realize Aomine was standing right beside him, blue eyes warily tracking the people that flitted about. He seemed angry, nervous, and a little flustered, perhaps to be so out of his element, and when the woman mopping his forehead bustled away for a moment, mentioning something about topical anaesthetic, Kagami turned his attention to him.

"...What am I doing here?" he mumbled.

"Dumbass, that's my line," Aomine muttered tensely, crossing his arms, and if he had been surprised to hear Kagami speak after such a drawn-out silence, he didn't show it, "Want to explain what happened back there?"

"...I'm not sure."

"You know I had to call Satsuki _and_ Tetsu before anyone would even give me something to fucking work with?" he snapped, "Both of them were too far away, so in the end I had to call a goddamn ambulance to come pick up your ass."

So that was it. "Sorry," he tried, unsure what Aomine wanted him to say exactly. Now that he was more aware, he could feel a splitting pain originating from his head, and he fought an inclination to reach up and touch it, knowing it would turn out messy.

Aomine sighed, "Don't apologize, dammit. Just...why did you agree to play if you still weren't feeling well?"

"I didn't want to disappoint you," Kagami admitted, hating how childish and meeching the words sounded. Aomine might have been a pain in the ass, a thorn in his side, but Kagami still cared about the irritating idiot, to some degree...maybe.

"Well take a good, long look, Bakagami. I'd say I'm pretty disappointed, wouldn't you?"

Kagami hung his head. A moment later, a dark red droplet of blood fell onto his knee, and he winced.

"It was stupid of you," Aomine went on, scratching the side of his nose, "Pushing your body like that when you were still sick…" He trailed off, and the tiny flash of guilt Kagami might have imagined crossing his face completed the statement;_ 'And I pushed you and egged you on, because you didn't tell me.'_

"...So what am I doing here?" he pressed, repeating his earlier question in hopes of changing the subject.

"They're gonna give you some stitches, apparently, and I asked them to check you for an illness, even if it's just a stomach bug."

The mechanical tone of voice and complete lack of sarcasm or vulgar jokes was a little unsettling, and it was only after he'd missed his chance to reply that he realized it was because his self-centered, arrogant asshole of a rival was _worried_ about him. So, he actually did have a heart somewhere under all the sneering and perversion.

Aomine was shooed out of the room by a nurse eventually, and Kagami was alone with his thoughts while he waited for the anaesthetic that had been smeared on his forehead to take effect. And then he had nothing of substance to occupy his mind as a needle repeatedly threaded through his skin, the incessant pricking dulled but not erased. When that was over - and he was relieved when it was - he only got a moment's peace before all sorts of instruments were being shone in his eyes and stuck in his mouth and ears. Like a routine check-up, but he desperately wished he could be left alone to sleep this whole day out of existence.

Just when he thought it was over, and the nurse shuffled away again, the door swung open and a rather young man with striking lilac hair and a clipboard clutched to his chest approached him.

"Hello, I'm Doctor Kishima. Your ah...companion there - " he jerked his chin in the direction of the waiting room, where Aomine must have been sitting, probably drumming his fingers irritably or trying to find a naughty magazine in the pornographically dry well that was hospital reading material, "- has already filled me in on what's happened today. That's quite the nasty cut."

Kagami shifted awkwardly, unsure how to respond to Aomine being referred to as his 'companion', "Uh, I'll bet you've seen worse, being a doctor and all," he said lamely.

Kishima just smiled tightly, "Not often, in my particular line of work. You see...Kagami Taiga, right?... We've run through your tests, and considering the circumstances -"

"Are you here to tell me I've got some horrible disease or something?" Kagami interrupted impatiently, refusing to acknowledge the twist of unease in his stomach as the idea registered as a very real possibility...not helping with the nausea in the slightest.

"No," Kishima said patiently, not put out by the interruption, "You're perfectly healthy, but considering -"

"So you're -" Kagami started, and it was his turn to be cut off.

"Considering the circumstances and my own personal intuition, I would like your permission to perform one last test before sending you home."

"My permission?" Kagami snapped, "What do you need that for? You've already sewn my head back together and stuffed a million tongue depressors down my throat without my _permission_…"

Disregarding his aggravated grousing, the doctor adjusted the glasses on the bridge of his nose, and when he spoke again it was in a noticeably quieter, more hesitant voice, "It's rather controversial...it could put me out of a job...but in cases like these my intuition hasn't been mistaken yet."

"'Cases like these'?" Kagami echoed suspiciously, "What are you talking about?"

"I'm not legally permitted to tell you that until I've done the test to be sure," Kishima muttered, running his latex-covered fingers through his wildly colored hair, "It'll only take a moment; like an X-ray...you won't feel a thing, and I promise it won't cost you a single yen."

"Why offer to do it then?" Kagami felt he was perfectly justified to feel baffled by this doctor's (he was strongly starting to suspect _quack's_) strange appearance and stranger words.

"The government covers the expenses, because if left uncaught this particular…affliction...can cause not only local, but national, even worldwide panic and chaos."

Kagami raised an eyebrow, "...You make it sound like I've caught the black plague; isn't that a little bit of an exaggeration?"

"...No, I don't believe so." Kishima murmured, "This is very serious, Mr. Kagami. Will you give me your permission to run the test, just to be safe?" He held out the clipboard in his hand, indicating the empty space at the bottom with his pen.

Maybe it was the throbbing of his head inciting him to get this over with as quickly as possible, but Kagami - at the end of his rope of patience - found himself shrugging and signing the dotted line, "Sure, why not?"

.

.

The test was as Doctor Kishima had said; rather like an X-ray, and he didn't understand the necessity for the curtain drawn around the bed he was sitting in, nor the conspiratorial whispers of the nurses that performed it. A few minutes after they hurried off, the curtain drew back slightly and Kishima's pale purple head peeked in, followed by the rest of him as he stepped over to Kagami.

"Mr. Kagami, I have the results of the test back...and now perhaps I can illuminate the situation to you."

"Situation? What do you mean? Was your 'intuition' or whatever right?"

Shifting slightly, looking more nervous than before, Kishima gave a small nod that seemed a little less than professional, "Yes, I believe so," he said gravely, running a hand through his hair again, "A case like this is...rare, and will probably seem absurd, but I assure you it is definitely not an impossibility. I stand here as proof of that."

Kagami's brow furrowed in confusion, but he forced it to relax as the contortion strained the aching injury on his forehead. He chose not to say anything, but something about the doctor's drastic shift in tone had his attention. It wasn't the tone of a doctor to a patient, but he wasn't sure what tone it _was_.

"My suspicion was confirmed when your, ah….friend mentioned the two of you have had sexual intercourse; he seemed worried about an STD, but I'm not here to tell you that news."

_Aomine told this guy that we've had sex? That bastard._ Somehow he couldn't picture Aomine calmly explaining that...or even saying the word in any way that wasn't immature, teasing, or suggestive.

Impatience resurfacing, Kagami crossed his arms and glowered at the floor, "Then what news _are_ you here to tell me? Spit it out already."

Again, he was not rebuked for his rudeness, as he'd expected to be, and Kishima was silent for a long moment.

"In recent decades, there has been a sort of medical mystery going around. The government is trying to keep it on the down-low because it could cause some serious conflict if it were made public to the world...that is one reason I hesitate to tell you this." Straightening his glasses again, Kishima cleared his throat, "But let me be straightforward. The test results say that you have conceived; it appears you are about four weeks through the gestation period."

Kagami blinked, at a total loss, "...Come again?" Was all he could manage to say.

"Put bluntly, Mr. Kagami, you are pregnant." Not giving Kagami time to respond, Kishima pressed on hurriedly, "I know it's hard to believe, hard to accept, but you're not the first; many in your position have -"

"You're crazy," Kagami scoffed, glad that was finally decided for him, and started to get up from the bed, "Either that or I hit my head way harder than I thought today."

Kishima's hand shot out and seized his upper arm, and Kagami stiffened and met his odd violet eyes belligerently.

"Wait," the doctor insisted, "Before you dismiss it as impossible -"

"It_ is_ impossible," Kagami interrupted, "Now let me go so I can get the hell out of here."

"Would you like to see the scans that confirm it?" Kishima prompted, holding up his clipboard slightly. His eyes narrowed behind his glasses, and his voice was suddenly much less kind, and much more cutting, "Even if you refuse to believe it, you can't make it disappear… In a few months time, you won't be able to deny it to yourself anymore."

Despite himself, Kagami hesitated at the cryptic warning, and slowly sat back down, though the skeptical sneer didn't fade from his face.

"...Let's say I pretend to believe you - and I'm not saying I do - what...I mean, how would…?" He trailed off, trying to pass his unease off with a dismissive snort.

"You understand how it works for females, correct? We aren't entirely sure how some men came to have the same capabilities, to conceive and carry children, but the scientists I've spoken to have found clues pointing to the hormones that are added into processed foods, particularly dairy products…"

"So, what? Eating cheese will turn me into a chick?" Kagami scowled, "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"No, you will not be turning into a 'chick'_._" Brushing off his denial with a wave of his hand, Kishima continued calmly, "Understand that this has been going on for many years; these are mutations that have been passed down through generations, and it is not that simple. It's actually become rather common, even some celebrities I'm sure you know were born to two male parents."

"Then why hasn't it been on the news and stuff?" Kagami challenged, "With all the publicity...nothing stays secret for long anymore."

"There is an organization in charge of keeping those who are aware of the phenomenon quiet, called the MMPA...the Male Mothers Protection Association. It's not a perfect system, and there have been a few issues the media passed off as jokes or the raving of mental patients, but it's all in place to protect the children of male mothers, and of course…" he raised an eyebrow at Kagami, "The mothers themselves."

Kagami wrinkled his nose, "Ew, don't say that when looking at me like that. There's no way in hell I'm some kind of -"

"So tell me," Kishima interjected, "How long has the morning sickness been going on?"

"Excuse me?" Kagami asked blankly.

"I've been told of the nausea and vomiting you've experienced...was this morning the first time?"

Shifting uncomfortably, Kagami averted his gaze and mumbled very quietly, "No."

"I beg your pardon? I may have to ask you to speak up."

Looking at the doctor head-on angrily, Kagami spoke louder, "No, it wasn't the first time. But that doesn't mean -"

"And have you been urinating more frequently than normal? Any discomfort or stiffness around your pelvic area?"

"What does it matter?" Kagami snapped.

Nodding to himself, Kishima consulted his clipboard for a moment before saying simply, "That's what I thought."

A chill crawled down Kagami's spine, and though he tried to tell himself it was because the air in the room was way too freaking cold, part of him acknowledged that first real flicker of fear...that first real inkling that maybe this strange man was telling him the truth.

"...Where do you fit into all of this nonsense?" he asked cautiously, trying to keep up his front of disdain and hostility, but it was cracking, "You're not an ordinary doctor, are you?"

Kishima gave him a small, gentle smile, "No, I'm not what you would call an ordinary doctor. And as for where I fit in...it strikes a rather personal chord with me; both of my parents were men. My mother...passed away giving birth to me, and I'm here in his honor, to see if I can keep it from happening to anyone else."

Unsure what to do with the piece of life-story he hadn't asked for, Kagami decided to channel his frustration into another jab, "Is that why you've got such freaky hair?" _I mean...this guy is pushing Generation of Miracles with that eyesore of a do._

To his surprise, Kishima nodded absently, "Actually, yes. A couple, ah….I'm not sure you would call them 'deformities' seem to have cropped up in the children of male pregnancies. Unusual height - greater or less than average - and odd hair colors seem to be the most common."

Kagami tried to scornfully disregard this tidbit of information, but his mind automatically leapt to Aomine's striking navy hair, or Kuroko's pale blue locks...was it possible that they, or other members of the Generation of Miracles….? _No way. No way in hell._

The doctor beside him must have seen the look of disbelief flash across his face, because he tilted his head slightly, "Do you believe me now?"

Kagami just grunted, not looking at his current company.

"I can tell you some things that will be beneficial to you in the next few weeks and months, if you would like to hear them?" Kishima pressed.

Sighing, Kagami tipped his head back and looked at the tile ceiling above him. On the one hand, it still sounded preposterous, and ridiculous, and no one was ever going to believe him, and Aomine was going to kill him, and _goddammit he was supposed to be telling himself how impossible it was, not worrying about the consequences!_ ...On the other...on the off chance this guy was right, slim as that might have been...he acknowledged that he really only had one option at this point.

"...I'm listening."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Kagami's head was still spinning when he left Doctor Kishima behind and joined Aomine in the waiting room. This time, though, it wasn't due to smacking his head against solid concrete. The doctor's words hung heavily in his mind like a fog, and he wasn't sure anymore if he was angry, confused, or downright terrified.

"So what did the doc say?" Aomine asked lazily, getting up from his chair and roving his piercing eyes over the line of stitches on Kagami's forehead, "You gonna live?"

Kagami felt a prickle of nerves as he approached him, wringing his hands together, "He said I'm fine, but…"

Relief flickered in Aomine's gaze, his whole expression seeming to open up as the tension left his face, "So it was just a stomach bug after all. Well, that's that, now -"

He'd turned to walk toward the door, but - after calling himself ten kinds of fool for hesitating so long - Kagami spoke up to stop him, voice wobbling, "A-Aomine?"

"Yeah?" Aomine paused and glanced back at him.

Kagami could feel the words rising in his throat like bile, unable to swallow them down, and his lips felt numb as he murmured, just loud enough for the other to hear, "...I'm pregnant."

Aomine looked at him strangely for a few seconds, and then gave a lopsided smirk, shoving his hands in his pockets, "Very funny. Now seriously, let's go before this place turns me into a fucking germophobe. Satsuki said she'll be picking us up in about ten."

Kagami didn't say anything, and when he took a step towards his rival, his legs shook and he stumbled before catching his balance ungracefully.

"Kagami? Hey, do you need to sit down? Don't go face-planting into the ground on me again…" Aomine's voice sounded strangely far away, and his words didn't make a lot of sense, but Kagami just shook his head slowly, bracing a hand against the pasty white wall beside him. His other hand went tentatively to his own midriff, as if he would find evidence of what the doctor had told him and later proved to him there...what he was gradually starting to doubt was the complete and total nonsense he had insisted it was.

When he lifted his head, he found himself looking directly into a pair of compelling midnight eyes, searching his face with confusion and worry that seemed out of place in their usually cocky, snarkily glittering depths.

"What's wrong? Do you feel sick still? If that lazy-ass doctor lied to you, I swear to God -"

Making use of his attention being firmly on him, Kagami's hands lifted to Aomine's shoulders to hold him still, earning him a rather perturbed, uncomfortable glance.

"Aomine, I'm serious. I didn't believe it either until a minute ago, but I-I know it's true. I'm really pregnant; you...you're going to be a father."

Aomine continued to look at him, at sixes and sevens, for a long moment, before his clenched jaw seemed to come unhinged, "But -"

"I know it sounds impossible," Kagami muttered, dropping his gaze, "And hell, part of me is still convinced it is, but...that's how it is."

For another count of seconds, Aomine was struck silent, and then his eyebrows slowly drew together, "But you're a guy."

Kagami sighed, and flicked him in the forehead, "Really, dumbass? I had no idea," he drawled sarcastically, "Look, I'll explain more later, but first let's get the hell out of here."

"Right, yeah..." Rubbing his offended forehead with a scowl, Aomine seemed conflicted about following him, as they traipsed through the exit; he kept shooting him glances out of the corners of his narrow eyes, as if concerned for his sanity. Kagami supposed he could understand that.

He could not have arranged a more awkward car ride if he tried. Aomine didn't speak to him, didn't look at him, and just gazed out the window at the streetlights passing by, seeming at turns frustrated, shell-shocked, and lost in thought. He didn't even respond to Momoi's attempts to start conversation, and eventually she gave up trying and just focused on the road, shooting occasional glances at Kagami through the rear-view mirror. When they arrived back at the dorm, and Kagami got out of the car, Aomine didn't follow. Crossing over to his side, he waited expectantly until Aomine rolled the window down.

"...Is it too weird?" Kagami prompted uncertainly, "Too much?"

Aomine sighed, and graced him with an unreadable look, "Yeah...yeah a bit," he said dully, "Just...gimme some space for a little while, alright Bakagami?"

Kagami faltered, and then nodded, automatically taking a step back, "Sure. ...How long?"

Aomine's shoulders hunched in a taut shrug, "A day or two. I just need to think." He didn't give Kagami time to respond, and rolled the window back up. A moment later Momoi drove them away, leaving Kagami alone on the curb, without even the faintest idea what he should do.

.

.

Satsuki's house was exactly as he remembered; bright, open, and smelling faintly of jasmine and sandalwood. Aomine barely spared the place a glance, as he slipped out of his shoes and promptly collapsed on her couch.

"Really, Dai-chan," Satsuki sighed exasperatedly, "Want to explain exactly why you invited yourself over to my house?"

"I need a break." Aomine mumbled into the cushion pressed to his face.

Satsuki still heard him, and he could just picture her propping her hands on her hips and pouting, "A break from what? School? Your messes everywhere? ...Kagamin?"

That last one was added hesitantly, but with a knowing edge Aomine didn't like. Sitting up stiffly, he gave her a glare that should have communicated how unimpressed he was.

"Is something up with the two of you?" Satsuki prodded, "You hardly spoke to each other back there, did something happen?"

"Mind your own business, Satsuki," Aomine grumbled, and then scratched his stomach when it gave a loud rumble, "Fuck, I'm starved; you got anything to eat?"

Even sating his hunger failed to take his mind off of what Kagami had said. Part of him was contemplating checking the idiot into a mental hospital, right after he'd gotten out of a physical one, because his head had surely gotten scrambled when he'd introduced it violently to the pavement earlier today. The rest of him, however, kept niggling and reminding him that he'd never heard his snappish, sarcastic rival look and sound so dead-serious. There had even been fear, in those expressive chestnut eyes, and that was an emotion Aomine didn't think he'd ever seen him show before. He kept getting into mental arguments with himself, as he moved the food Satsuki had given him - but hadn't made herself, thankfully - about with his chopsticks.

_What if it's true, though? What if he really is -? _

_Shut up, do you even hear yourself? _

_But what if…? _

'_What if' nothing. It's fucking impossible. _

_Stranger things have happened, and he looked like he was scared shitless by whatever that doctor showed him. _

_Doctors are wrong all the time. There's just no way._

_But -_

And it went on like that for some time, until his fragile patience snapped and he got tired of driving himself in circles. Pushing his plate away and getting up abruptly from the table, he stormed away from a very confused Satsuki, who of course called after him.

"Dai-chan? Where are you going?"

"I need some air," he said shortly, putting up every effort not the slam the door behind him as he left. It still sounded much too loud.

Taking a deep breath of the humid night air, he let it out on a low sigh and leaned against the house, squinting up at the porch lights until he had to look away. Gradually, though he hated it and wished he could make it go away, he found that he had to admit Kagami must have been telling the truth. What reason would he have had to lie? It was still insane, and he was still definitely going to tear the bastard a new one if it turned out he was wrong - ...actually, he'd probably do that anyway - but massive crime against the laws of nature aside, it seemed, for all intents and purposes, that Kagami really was pregnant. And that meant…

…_.Well, fuck._

On an impulse, he slipped his hand in his pocket and pulled out his phone, but hesitated when he realized he didn't know who he intended to call. Kagami came to mind first, but he shoved the thought away, much as he felt an irritating tug of guilt thinking of his friend all alone in their dorm room, believing Aomine thought he was out of his mind. He didn't know what he would say to him, and even if his voice would be comforting, he wasn't ready to face it yet.

Tetsu, then? He'd gotten Aomine out of a lot of messes before; he always seemed to know how to calm him down when he was worked up, and make things seem like they weren't so bad...but he'd probably be ticked off about Aomine calling so late at night, and Aomine didn't know if he wanted to drag him into this just yet...or at all.

Feeling stupid, like a little child calling for help, he ruefully punched in a familiar number and brought the device up to his ear, listening to the muffled tone as it rang. Once, twice, three times, and then there came a click from the other end.

"Daiki? What're you doing calling this late?" a gruff voice familiar as home asked.

Aomine hesitated, pulling his lower lip between his teeth, and then spoke more tremulously than he would have liked to admit, "Hey, uh...Dad, can I talk to you?"

There was a pause, and then his father replied, in a noticeably softer tone, "Yeah, I guess; is something wrong?"

"Th-there's something I have to um...tell you, o-or ask you, or something," Aomine stammered, hating how his words tumbled over each other, betraying his nerves and conflict, "See, I...I think I'm in trouble. It's pretty bad."

"What happened?" Oh, now his father's voice was sharp with wariness, "Did you get in trouble with the police?"

Aomine was taken aback for a second or two, "Huh? No way, just listen -"

But his dad wasn't listening, and just kept rattling off accusations, "Did you flunk out of school that fast?"

Okay, that one was actually pretty insulting, "No! I'm not _that_ stupid, but -"

He was interrupted again, and his father sounded unserious, almost mocking at this point, "What, did you knock someone up or something?"

Aomine said nothing, for much too long; robbed of response...and his heavy silence must have told the person listening on the other end everything.

"You...holy shit, Daiki, you _didn't."_ When Aomine still didn't respond, his father changed tone, but still sounded shocked and bordering on angry, "...You did?"

Aomine hated how small his voice sounded when he answered, "I...I think so."

His father sighed explosively, and Aomine could hear how he was reining in his emotions when next he spoke, "Who is it?"

Aomine swallowed past whatever knot had settled in his throat, commanding his voice to remain steady, "My...my roommate, Kagami."

He wondered if it was possible to hear someone else's mind shut down, "Wait, but...that can't be right; the same Kagami you kept talking about after the Winter Cup back in high school?"

"That's right." _Here it comes…_

But his dad didn't pounce on what he'd expected him to, "...You slept with another man?"

Blinking, though obviously the other couldn't see it, Aomine decided to just give it to him straight and beg forgiveness later. "Yeah," he said firmly...and then added, much quieter, "A lot."

"But… Never mind. I will say one thing, though; you both should have considered the consequences before making any rash decisions."

"I know," Aomine sighed, but then the words sank in and he stiffened with surprise, "Hang on. You're not that surprised that -? You almost sound like…" Suspicion registered, and his voice turned steely, "What do you know about this?"

The reply was too quick, "Nothing. ...About what?"

"Dad. Tell me." Aomine pressed.

"Tell you what? There's nothing to tell -"

"You know something! What the hell is going on, I swear if you don't -"

"That's enough, Daiichi!" his father snapped, cutting him off.

Aomine froze, and it took several seconds to convince his mouth to work enough to speak, "...What did you say?"

"Look, it's really late, you should -" his father muttered.

"No, what did you just call me?" Aomine insisted, shifting his phone unsteadily against his cheek.

"Daiki. I called you Daiki, of course."

"No you didn't. Who's Daiichi?" Somehow, he couldn't help but feel like he had found the edge of something big...something ugly...and whatever his father said, he wasn't going to like it.

There was a long, low exhalation from the other end of the call, "Alright...I suppose you would have found out eventually."

"Found what out? ...Have you been keeping something from me?"

He could imagine his father's hand waving dismissively at him, telling him to shut up, "A long time ago, before you were born, I was...in a relationship with a man named Daiichi. He is your real father."

And just like that, the world was suddenly upside-down and in a very foreign language that made Aomine's temples throb with absolute incredulity. "...What?" was all he could get out.

"We were together for a few years, and very happy, but then...I found out I was pregnant with his son."

_What the _fuck…_?_ Shoving away several disturbing mental images, Aomine staggered backward under the weight of the revelation, ending up sliding down the front door of Satsuki's house to the ground.

"Daiki…? Are you still there?"

Fumbling with the phone in his hand, Aomine nodded, forgetting that he couldn't see it, "...Yeah, I'm here."

"Daiichi left, when he found out, and I carried you on my own for nine months...I haven't seen him since. You were...you were named for your _father_, Daiki, but you were never supposed to find out about him. So I got married to your mother, and she agreed to play the part of the woman who'd given birth to you."

"Does she...know any of this?" Aomine asked dazedly, his voice sounding hollow even to his own ears.

"No. She doesn't know the whole truth. We got together when you were hardly a toddler, and she was willing to adopt you into her family and raise you as her son. That was all that mattered."

Aomine wet his lips, still reeling and feeling like something in his mind had just been destroyed, "...So Dad, you're….really my mom?" It sounded unbelievably weird and wrong to say out loud, and his father must have agreed, because he made a reproachful sound of disapproval.

"If I can ask one thing of you, Daiki… You don't have to accept any of this, now that you know, and you're much too young to have to decide if you're ready to be a father or not...but please don't do what Daiichi did. Don't leave the mother of your child to deal with it alone."

Aomine couldn't think of a single thing to say except, "I don't know…"

"At least tell your Kagami, then, that if he needs a helping hand or a listening ear, or just someone who's been in the same position, he can always contact me."

Aomine sighed, "Okay. ...Can I hang up now?"

"You may. ...I'm sorry, Daiki." his father (mother...? _Nah, still too weird..._) murmured.

"For what?" he asked brittly.

"For not telling you the truth all these years. I was just trying to do what I thought was best for you."

If his coarse, authoritative father spouted any more of this sappy bullshit, Aomine thought his head might spontaneously combust on his shoulders. "Yeah...I got it," he said awkwardly, "Goodnight." And he closed his phone with a snap before his dad could respond.

_The whole world has gone fucking insane,_ he decided, slumping against the door he was sitting against. It was too much to deal with right now; too much to sort through and figure out, so after a moment of sitting there essentially in shock, he got shakily to his feet and went to tell Satsuki he was going to be on his way.

He'd call a cab, though. He couldn't face her impossible questions on top of everything else right now.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Aomine returned much quicker than he'd said he would. That very same night, in fact, at about two in the morning, Kagami heard him trying to fit the key in the lock, jiggling it around before giving up and pounding on the door with his fist.

Kagami hadn't known what to do with himself, with Aomine gone and so much riding on his mind that he didn't want to think about. In the end he'd just sat down in front of the TV with a bowl of strawberries (the only thing he could think of eating that didn't make him feel queasy) and put in an NBA recording to take his mind off the whole mess. It didn't work completely, but the drumming of the ball, the squeaking of basketball shoes, and the carrying voice of the announcer were soothing, and he'd almost fallen asleep; eyes half-lidded and unfocused, when the sound of footsteps and keys jingling as they landed on the floor before being picked up jerked him out of his stupor.

Almost spilling the strawberries all over himself, he got to his feet and unlocked the door for his roommate, recoiling in surprise when he staggered unsteadily through it, a bitter cloud of alcohol following him in.

"What the - Aomine?" Kagami blinked, caught off guard by the state of his heavily intoxicated and slightly swaying rival, "What...are you doing back? You said you'd be gone for a day or two."

"Shaddup, I know what I said," Aomine mumbled, trying to look at him but instead fixing his feverish eyes on a spot a few centimeters to the left of his shoulder, "And I know what _I'm_ doing here, I came to see that gorgeous ass of yours…"

Kagami's eyebrows furrowed, but he didn't have time to respond to the bold declaration before his hand reflexively shot out, steadying Aomine as he lurched forward dangerously, "Alright, you need to sit your drunk ass down before you kill yourself," he muttered, dragging him over to the bed and pushing him onto it. Aomine didn't resist, and fell back with a vague, giddy laugh on the mattress, lifting his head to give Kagami a lopsided smile, and crooking a finger at him.

"C'mere," he invited fuzzily, before frowning at somewhere in the vicinity of his own body, "Fuck, it's too hot...I needa get out of these clothes…" His fingers worked at the fly of his jeans, but it seemed the advanced technology of a zipper was a bit too complicated for his addled brain to handle at the moment.

Sighing resignedly, Kagami sat down next to him and swatted his hands away from their task, "Here, let me help you with that." Undoing the button and zipper, he pulled his rival's jeans down to his ankles and discarded them, and then rolled his shirt up his chest and yanked it over his head, ignoring Aomine's mumbled thanks. He didn't think he'd ever seen Aomine drunk before, definitely not like this, and he wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to do with him, but he did acknowledge the reason so much alcohol must have been imbibed in the first place. Aomine must have come to the conclusion that Kagami had been telling the truth about his...condition. He wasn't sure how to feel knowing that Aomine's first response had been to numb himself to it, but then...he supposed he might have done something similar, if he was able and had the opportunity to put all this ridiculous conflicted emotion aside.

His hand that had been resting beside his rival after helping him undress scooted away when he noticed the telltale swelling beginning in Aomine's boxers, which could only mean one thing. His eyes were closed, and his breathing had become a little unsteady, sharpening the air with the odor of beer and probably whiskey - though Kagami had no idea how he would have gotten ahold of that - when he exhaled.

"Bastard, what are you doing getting hard at a time like this -?" he began angrily, but then broke off as he reminded himself it was pointless trying to argue with someone under the influence. Exhausted and irritated, he flopped down beside his drunk roommate instead, glaring up at the ceiling as if it had personally insulted him.

After a moment, Aomine spoke again, but his voice was softer, and still muddled, his words running together a bit.

"So damn hot… Kagami…" he panted, "You're fuckin' awesome, you know that...?"

Feeling like the delirious words had set his face on fire, Kagami threw an arm over his eyes with a flustered groan, "Shut up, moron…"

"No really," Aomine said, with about as much conviction as someone who'd practically drank their weight in alcohol could convey, "You've got those eyes and that face and that fiiiine ass…" His eyebrows furrowed slightly, as if he was trying to think of what else. "And you're cute and funny and un-fucking-believable at basketball… And now, you're gonna have my kid," he added matter-of-factly.

He might have sounded matter-of-fact, but Kagami felt like the wind had been knocked out of him at the reminder. Absently, his hand drifted down to rest over his belly, wondering if a little combination of his own and Aomine's cells was really growing ever-so-slowly in there. He still wasn't sure how it could be possible, but it seemed - at least while his brain was swimming in booze - that Aomine had accepted it.

He flinched as he felt a large, warm hand join his own on his stomach, and when he glanced at Aomine he found the other's slightly-clouded eyes resting on him waveringly.

"I'm not gonna leave you, Kagami…" he slurred, lacing their fingers together, "Promise."

Kagami blinked, deciding not to follow his immediate inclination, which was to remove his hand from his rival's grasp. Of course, he had to realize that Aomine probably had little or no idea what he was saying right now, and it was difficult to take him seriously with that goofy smile and the hard-on tenting his underwear, but in spite of that, he halfheartedly hoped that he at least kind of meant it. Whatever happened, however this worked out and whether it was all complete rubbish or not, he would have preferred if he didn't have to handle it all by himself.

And maybe Aomine wasn't the best choice for a person to face something so serious with, but...even when he was too wasted to stand up without wobbling, and even after his parting words earlier that evening, he _had_ come back. And - whether either of them liked it or not - he _had_ fathered their unborn child. Kagami supposed that, unless his roommate made a run for it, he was stuck with him...and he was surprisingly okay with that.

Shifting their clasped hands to Kagami's chest, Aomine leaned up unsteadily and pressed a slow, if rather sloppy kiss to his parted lips, and Kagami was hit with the full force of the alcohol heavy on his breath, and his tongue, when it made its foray into his mouth. He was startled, but didn't resist as warm, firm, and rather sour lips moved against his own, leaning up to add his own pressure after a moment's hesitation.

Breaking away after a moment, Aomine trailed the tip of his nose absently down to Kagami's chin, chuckling softly to himself.

"You taste like a freaking bar," Kagami grumbled, disentangling their fingers so he could poke him in the forehead.

Aomine hummed, and rested his chin on Kagami's chest, looking at him through half-mast, bleary eyes, "Hmm...you taste like strawberries…"

Gazing at his flushed face and slightly ruffled hair, Kagami had the absurd thought that the man sprawled practically on top of him, three sheets to the wind, was actually pretty cute.

"Think you can sleep some of this off, Ahomine?" he asked, unable to resist running his fingers through those short blue locks to see if they were as soft as they looked.

Shifting uncomfortably, Aomine grimaced and made a protesting sound rather like a whine, "Can't sleep hard..." he complained, reaching down clumsily to adjust his boxers.

Aversely, Kagami glanced down; then he sighed and pushed his frustrated and very juiced rival off of him, "Lie back, I'll take care of it."

Aomine blinked disorientedly, and then eased onto his back, laying out every centimeter of glistening tan skin before Kagami, his erection jutting up proudly through the cloth barrier of his boxers.

"What're you doing?" Aomine asked blurrily as Kagami settled between his thighs, slowly removing his underwear, allowing his hardened cock to nestle up against his trembling bronze abs.

"Shut up," Kagami murmured, and ducked his head down, lightly tracing the thick length down to the base with his nose, inhaling the strong, musky scent that was purely Aomine. He felt Aomine shudder slightly, his legs parting to make more of a space for him, and he watched a bead of moisture well up from the tip of his erection a moment before he closed his lips around it, sliding it slowly into his mouth.

Aomine moaned shakily, and tried to lift his hips to drive himself deeper, until Kagami pinned them down, restricting his movement and telling him nonverbally not to rush him. He wasn't sure he got the message across to his intoxicated company, as Aomine made a short, needy sound in his throat. Soothing him with a stroke from his tongue along the rigid flesh, Kagami touched just the tip of it to the leaking head, tracing the trail of saliva and pre-cum down before taking as much of the length as he could into his throat.

"Kagami…" Aomine slurred quietly, and Kagami saw his eyes flutter closed as he bobbed his head slowly, sucking on the warm, hard erection in his mouth.

As his confidence - and his assurance that he wasn't going to choke - increased gradually, so did his pace, and he sucked and pulled at Aomine's cock, bringing out breathless gasps and moans from him, only wincing as unsteady fingers snared in the hair at the back of his neck, pressing his head down further. He almost gagged, but bore with it as Aomine's hand guided him up and down his shaft, his wavering sounds of pleasure growing more urgent as release neared. Slurping at the broad head, Kagami wrapped his hand around the base of Aomine's arousal, pumping it strongly as he sealed his lips around the weeping tip again.

Aomine bore up sharply, all but shoving his cock down Kagami's throat, "Fuck…" he panted, "I'm gonna -" he broke off with a strangled groan, and a stream of bitter liquid rushed into Kagami's mouth, inciting him to pull away with an affronted noise, promptly hit in the face with another jet of sticky cum. Wiping the mess out of his eyes, he caught Aomine looking at him with almost dreamlike interest.

"Ah...that's hot…" he mumbled distantly, and Kagami resisted the urge to smack him and add to the headache that would probably be greeting him soon enough. Getting up, he left for the bathroom to clean his face, and - for good measure - brushed his teeth once he got there. He returned with a washcloth in hand, and cleaned Aomine as well, as best he could, before pulling his boxers back up.

"Now go to sleep," he muttered tiredly, dragging a blanket over him and crawling over to the other side of the bed, taking his spot by the window. Aomine was already snoring, knocked out cold by the alcohol and post-orgasm lull, by the time he lay down to put an end to this bizarre and very long day.

TBC


End file.
